Standard disclaimer: I don't own Mass Effect.

She said "I'm tired of the war
I want the kind of work I had before
A wedding dress or something white
To wear upon my swollen appetite"
-Leonard Cohen, Joan of Arc

Falling from the Citadel, Rose Shepard remembered nothing. Oblivion washed over her as they ran towards her, a stretcher hovering as they lifted her prone form onto it.

If this is heaven, I should be meeting Garrus at the bar. That was her first coherent thought upon waking. Blinking, Shepard tried to sit up, but found she couldn't. The next thing she noticed were the intravenous tubes running cooling liquid through her body. After those first few coherent thoughts, she fell back again against her pillows, turned her head, and promptly retched.

It seemed that coming out of an anaesthetic didn't agree with her.

She felt dizzy, disoriented. Fuzzy, muddle-headed, as though she had a hangover from too much drinking.

She wasn't sure how long she'd been out, between the retching and the second waking.

Shepard struggled to a sitting position, and discovered that there was a tube in her bladder, draining it. Another uncomfortable thing about hospitals.

Hospital. So that was where she was, not the Med Bay aboard the SSV Normandy, but in some hospital, somewhere. Her eyes darted around the room as she came clear of the miasma that still lingered, the fuzzy feeling after a chemical-induced state close to death. She registered the fact that there was a warm hand clenching her own, a familiar hand that had stroked all the intimate regions of her body.

"Kaidan?"

His head shot up at the sound of her voice. She noticed belatedly that his eyes had dark circles, his stubble now turning into a bristly beard. "Rose."

"Did we win?" There was an urgent mission she remembered they were performing. A battle still to be fought, a war to win. She remembered little after Admiral David Anderson's death at the hands of the Illusive Man, the trauma still fresh in her mind.

She doesn't remember my finding her, carrying her from the wreckage of the Citadel. She doesn't remember any of it. A small part of Kaidan was glad for that. Glad that she would never know the fear he had felt, fear that the woman he loved was dead. He had taken a small team, assisted by the resources of the Shadow-Broker- the Alliance was strapped flat and were busier trying to debrief their troops- back to the rubble where the Citadel had once been.

"I refuse to accept that she's dead," Kaidan's arms were crossed flatly against his chest, the muscles in his jaw twitching as he fought to control his emotions. Rose couldn't be dead. As if by sheer force of his beliefs he could summon her to him in the cargo hangar of the Normandy, he saw Liara's face change for an instant.

"There might be a way..." The Asari twisted her fingers as she spoke, mentally ticking off a list that Kaidan couldn't see. "With enough money-no- they need manpower-" Liara trailed off, pacing as she thought. "Yes. Yes!" She turned abruptly around to face Kaidan, "Glyph? Can you call in all resources not being channeled into reconstruction? We need it for the surgeries."

The VI beeped, "Yes, Doctor T'Soni," it said, and Liara smiled for the first time since the entire crew of the Normandy had found Shepard's body.

They had gone back to London, back to the place where Shepard had last been seen. For the past three days, they had been digging in the rubble, hope and despair vying with one another. This was the last day Admiral Hackett would be there to assist their efforts; Kaidan was simply grateful that he didn't have to explain to Hannah Shepard that her daughter's body wouldn't be returned to her in a casket. He kept hoping that they would find Rose, that somewhere amidst the terrible wreckage and aftermath of war, she would be breathing.

"Found her! Over here!" A young, bespectacled lad from Grissom Academy waved his hands above his head. They broke into a run at those words, the flaring of hope growing stronger with each step.

When they found her, Kaidan's chest clenched tightly, heart surging at the news, not wanting to face the possibility that she no longer lived. He lifted her into his arms, careful not to jostle her as he did so. There was no telling what horrific injuries she had, not without swift medical attention. A waiting gurney stood ready to receive its precious cargo. He could hear her shallow, rattling breath, and knew she lived still. He didn't know for how long.

Now she woke. He hadn't left her side since they wheeled her out of the surgical theatre. It broke his heart to see they had shaved her head, that they seemed oblivious to the fact that she was someone's daughter- someone's lover. Salarians were excellent surgeons, but lacked the empathy that humans valued so deeply. The only Salarian Kaidan liked had died on Tuchanka, ending the Genophage, and right now, Kaidan would've given the world to have had Mordin in that operating theatre.

"Breathing normal. Surgery a success. Will likely wake up soon." The surgeon had left five minutes-or hours- ago. Kaidan had sat beside Rose for so long his butt was getting numb, but he hadn't wanted to leave in case she woke and didn't see him.

Did we win? What the hell was that kind of question?

Kaidan smiled, and took Rose's hand in his own. It looked so strange to him, a confused tangle of IV lines and medi-gel infusion pumps. Her other hand looked no better: covered with tiny burns that were slowly fading with the medi-gel, others that Kaidan knew no amount of surgery and skin-grafts could fix. He loved her, and in that moment, he knew that she loved him. Her blue eyes fixed on his, trying to work out what the hell to tell her.

The truth was, they had won. "Yes," he said at last. "It's over, and the galaxy is saved. " There was no amount of forced joviality that could disguise the relief that he felt that it was over. They had time now, time to do what they wanted, time to decide their personal futures.

Days went past in a blur, turning into weeks. The reporters were like a herd of ravenous varren, seizing each chance they had to ambush anyone coming out of the hospital, desperate for news of the conquering heroine. Kaidan learned quickly to evade them, and spent his time lurking in the hospital stairwells until he was sure they had gone.

"You know, it's getting rather wearying having to lurk like some miscreant," Kaidan smiled, kissing Shepard on the lips. She leaned in and kissed him back, hungry for his touch. It had been too long. Too long to go without.

"So break me out of here. I'm feeling better than I did six weeks ago, Kaidan. In fact, I'm getting rather bored." He laughed softly at her mention of boredom. He knew only too well that feeling of being recovered enough in mind, but not in body.

"I know, Rose, but you're still recovering," he said gently, "but I promise, I'll make it up to you." He slid his hand beneath the nightshirt she wore- she had stolen it from him, after all- and gently cupped her breast with his hand.

"Hmmm..." She cocked her head to one side, as though in contemplation. "I can think of ways..."

A soft, fond chuckle. She had recovered sufficiently enough that the in-dwelling catheter had been removed- fucking uncomfortable things- but they still wanted her in hospital for observation, and she was sick to death of it. All she wanted was to be back on the Normandy with her friends. She wanted her own bed back, wanted to stand at the captain's post on the command deck, and head for new adventures.

Three days later, Shepard had her wish granted.